


BITE

by lilithenaltum



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Bratty Shuri, EverShur - Freeform, Everett Ross is a Smart Ass, F/M, Flirting, I swear this wasn’t supposed to be this long, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: “I know what you’re doing.”“Do you?” she dares to ask and he lifts her chin roughly, makes her look him in the eye once more, and she thinks he smiles but it’s not like anything she’s seen before.“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess.”...The beginning of a very interesting arrangement; or, how Princess Shuri teased Agent Ross one too many times and got more than she bargained for.





	BITE

**Author's Note:**

> for littlequeeniebee, who requested:
> 
> “Prior to Shuri's first trip to Korea, Agent Ross teaches her to drink soju and things ... ensue. Pretty please?”
> 
> .  
> .  
> .
> 
> Hopefully, I got this aspect of Korean culture right. I did some research on how to drink soju and found the entire ceremony around it incredibly interesting. Thank you for the prompt, littlequeeniebee!

—so kiss me on the mouth & set me free  
but please,

_do(n't) bite_

**—** **troye sivan**

.

.

.

Seoul is absolutely beautiful at night. High in the luxurious tower she calls her hotel for the week, Shuri stares out at the glittering lights and beautiful skyscrapers of the city, her legs tucked underneath her in the plush settee beside the large window.

There were a million and one things she had to do in the next seven days, most notably, presenting a new prototype to Min Yeong-Sik, owner and CEO of the expansive Minwoo Industrial Corporation. It wasn’t something she hadn’t done before, but for whatever reason, this felt all the more daunting. Part of her wished she was doing something as simple as presenting at one of Tony Stark’s STARKCONs, a guaranteed fun time, but she also knew that in order for Wakanda’s capital in the tech world to grow, she needed to expand her borders. And though there’d been negotiations in South Korea in the past, she’d never done any of the business dealings.

Shuri, however, never turned down a challenge, and so she’d packed her things and taken her jet to Seoul, all her schematics and plans with her, and one Everett Ross to tag along.

Though Bucky Barnes was her usual companion on trips abroad, he had a more vital mission to undertake, a joint effort between the American and Wakandan governments, and so he was somewhere undercover with Sam Wilson and would be gone for several more weeks. Nakia would have come along, comfortable as she was with the city, but she was also in the middle of a mission, somewhere in the heart of Morocco, and wouldn’t be free for another month at least. And so it had been up to the princess herself to present her tech, and to enlist the help of Everett, who was also comfortable with Seoul and had a pretty good grasp on Korean culture.

And honestly, Shuri liked Everett and all his dry, sarcastic humor, so she didn’t mind the company.

The aforementioned knocks twice on the door that separated their suites and she calls for him to come in. She almost never kept those doors locked when she and Bucky went abroad; there was no reason she felt she needed to with Everett. But he wasn’t nearly as easy going as her friend was, and he’d insisted that she keep a strict line between he and she, some sort of barrier for propriety out of respect for her title and status. Shuri thought the whole thing a load of hullabaloo, to be honest. Everett was her friend, too. There didn’t need to be any barriers between them, especially when she wanted them to be a little more than just friends.

“You really need to lock this door,” he grumbles, slipping into her room quietly and making his way over to the settee. Shuri can’t help her smile as his eyes meet hers. He was always so by the book about everything, and she had the constant itch to ruffle him up a bit. The closest she’d gotten was that time she’d ran off in D.C. and gone clubbing with some friends of hers from Georgetown. He’d been her surrogate chaperone then, too, and spent the better part of three hours chasing her around the city. She’d never forget how red his face had been when she finally slowed down long enough for him to catch up. He’d been livid, and the anger and exasperation on his face had been almost erotic.

But he didn’t know that. He probably had no idea how much she absolutely loved pushing his buttons and pushing him to the edge. Honestly, it wouldn’t be much fun if he did, so she kept it to herself.

“I’ve told you time and again, I never lock that door. There’s no need. No one is going to bother me through it.”

“It’s got nothing at all to do anyone getting in and everything to do with what’s proper,” he insists. Shuri just rolls her eyes and turns back to the window. If he was going to start this up again, she’d do well to zone him out. She half expected a lecture of some sort, and maybe a reminder of her itinerary in the morning; he was nothing if not punctual and expected the same of her, as well. Usually, she’d give him hell for the fun of it, but a lot rode on this deal, so she’d be good for this trip.

To her surprise, Everett drops his argument and sits at the edge of her bed, and Shuri stretches her legs out on the settee as she turns to watch him.

“Yes?”

He almost smirks. His almost smirks were probably one of her favorite expressions of his, and she rarely got to see them, at least directed toward herself.

“It occurred to me during my shower that you’ll have to have dinner with Min Yeong-Sik and his associates and that you probably have no idea how that’s going to play out.”

Shuri shrugs. She didn’t, but she hadn’t worried much about that part.

“That’s what I have you for.”

“Mmm, yeah,” he agreed, but there was something else in his expression and so she leaned forward to give him her attention. “But it’s expected of you to follow through on some customs I realized you’re not familiar with.”

“Like what?”

Everett actually did smirk then and pulled something from behind him, a greenish glass bottle full of what Shuri guessed was liquor. She wasn’t a big drinker; her usual poison of choice was simple champagne or sweet white wines, and on occasion, when she was in New York and having dinner with the Starks, a whiskey and Coke. But she wasn’t an expert by any means and didn’t think to factor in drinks with the inevitable and important dinner coming up.

“What’s that?” she asks, reaching for the bottle. Everett places it in her hand and she tries to read the writing on the cold glass. Her Korean isn’t expert level, but she knows enough that to read that this was something called soju.

“The Korean elixir of living,” he quips, and he takes the bottle back gently. “It’s literally entwined in almost every aspect of the culture. You have to know how to drink it and how to pour it if you’re going to impress Min.”

“And you’re going to show me, I presume?”

“Yep.”

“I’m intrigued,” she says with a casual smile, and she slides off the settee. He scoots back in the bed and grabs her room service tray from the night stand, then puts the bottle in the middle. 

“Grab a few shot glasses while you’re up if you don’t mind,” he says, adjusting the tray and not paying her much attention. She folds her blanket and gets the glasses, then joins him on the bed.

When he looks up, she notices him observing what she’s got on, or better yet, what she doesn’t. Shuri settles on the mattress, sitting cross legged on the bed in front of him, her shorts riding up dangerously and her robe half off her shoulder. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intentionally trying to start something; she’d been trying to start something, anything, for months now. But Everett wasn’t biting and she was getting tired of throwing hints, only to have them fall flat at her feet. Maybe he was denser than she’d given him credit for. Or maybe she really wasn’t his type after all.

_He said you were one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen_ , she remembers, almost bitterly, because while his eyes had been almost painfully earnest and honest, he hadn’t done anything to show her he really believed that. Then again, she thought, mindlessly picking at the sheets, maybe he meant it platonically. Or maybe he'd just been emotional after T'Challa and Nakia's wedding; he had been tipsy, after all. It hadn’t been that long ago since his divorce, too, and thinking someone was beautiful didn’t automatically mean they thought she was attractive enough to pursue.

Shuri was frustrated, both mentally and physically, about the entire business, so she pushed the thoughts out her head and focused on the man sitting across from her.

“So how do we do this?”

“Easy peasy, actually,” he says, grinning. His hair was unusually messy, his feet bare, and he wore nothing but soft pajama pants and a tank top, exposing swaths of pale skin that she’d probably never see otherwise. While it was nice to know he was now that comfortable around her, it was irritating that he was teasing her, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

Shuri sighed internally and watches as he begins to shake the bottle in his hand.

“A few ground rules, first,” he begins. “If you’re the youngest person present, it’s your responsibility to pour and ask to fill glasses.” He pauses and shrugs. “You’ll probably be the youngest person there, honestly. I don’t think anyone working directly under Min Yeong-Sik is under fifty, unless he brings his son, and even then, the kid’s 31.”

“Alright.”

“So what you must remember is that as the youngest, you will always pour or accept a drink with both hands. You can’t pour your own drink; if Min Jae-ok is there, he’ll pour for you. If not, it’ll probably be myself.”

“Because you’re so far away from fifty,” she says with a laugh and Ev rolls his eyes. She loved teasing him about his age. It was almost guaranteed to start a rant about how age brought wisdom and how he was still spry to be as old as he was. Except he really wasn’t that old. Granted, he was twenty three years her senior, but he wasn’t that old.

“I’m 47, Princess,” he says, his tone biting and sarcastic and she loves it. “I’m still a spring chicken.”

“Right.”

“Forty is the new thirty.”

“Alright.”

Ev sighs and shakes his head, but continues. “Anyway. You turn and drink away from the elders in the group, so basically, everyone but yourself. It’s a sign of respect, and you don’t wanna show your teeth. That’s a huge no.”

“My teeth are fine, but I see what you’re saying.”

“Good, good. Now, if you’re going to open this bottle-” and he holds up the chilled bottle of soju with one hand, his other lightly pressed to his bare ankle- “then you’ll do it this way. Give it a good mix. And by good I mean...well, here. I’ll show you.”

Everett begins to shake the bottle almost violently, and quickly, before tapping it hard with his elbow on its bottom. Shuri blinks and then laughs.

“The hell was all that for?”

As usual, he raises a brow at her cursing, but for the first time, he doesn’t scold her on it. She’s almost disappointed. His scoldings were almost erotic.

“That’s how you mix it.” He pops the cap on the bottle and turns to the side, flicking a bit of the liquid out and she scoots back lest it get all over her. “I guess I should have said something about that too,” he says, but she knows he’s not sorry. She presses her lips into a line so she doesn’t give him the pleasure of seeing how much he’s amusing her at the moment.

“You better not get liquor on my silk shorts,” she grumbles. She thinks his eyes dart down to them, the tiny sliver of pink silk fabric that just barely covered the essentials. But he’s back to his soju presentation before she can confirm.

“I'm not getting liquor on anything,” he says in a dry voice. “Pay attention.”

“Yes sir,” she purrs and he draws in a breath. _Oh_. Maybe he was more affected by those shorts than she’d thought. She almost smiles.

“Your recipient will hold their glass, probably with both hands since you’re a guest of honor.” He hands her a shot glass and she follows suit. “You’ll hold the bottle, also with both hands, because they’re elders and because you want to show respect. And then you just...pour.” He pours her a shot and puts the bottle back on the tray between them and waits for her to take a drink.

Shuri nearly downs the shot right then but remembers what he’d said about turning around, so she twists and shoots the liquor quickly. It’s not particularly unpleasant, and it goes down easy enough. It reminds her of watered down vodka, though there’s none of the burn. She turns back around to grab the bottle and read the alcohol content, but notices Everett staring at her legs, mouth opened and slack.

He notices her staring at him too late. By the time he puts his face back together in its usual, unbothered mask, she’s smirking at him because she knows. Everett Ross wasn’t unaffected by her at all, and now she had proof. If only he’d get the stick out his ass and actually do something about it.

“Your turn to pour,” he says, his voice tighter than usual. Shuri bites her bottom lip and lifts the bottle with both hands and then pours him a shot as well, and he turns too, and she watches the muscles in his shoulders flex as he does. Unlike him, she’s not ashamed to show him just how blatant she is in wanting him. So when he lifts his eyes to her, a little liquor still on his lips, she doesn’t bother hiding her desire.

“Want another shot?” he asks, for lack of anything to say, probably. She’s surprised he hasn’t just gotten up and gone back into his own room, the next suite over. “Or we can play a drinking game, if you want.”

“Should I really get drunk the night before my presentation?” she asks, coyly. Ev narrows his eyes and sighs, as if he’s fighting something.

“You’re not going to get drunk on soju. The alcohol content is pretty low and we’re not going to do that much drinking.”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re tired, we can call it a night and-”

Shuri leans forward and presses a hand to his forearm and she swears he nearly jumps out of his skin. “I’m sure. Maybe more of this stuff will loosen you up a bit. You’re as stiff as a board.”

“I’m nervous about tomorrow,” he says, but it’s mostly a lie. She’s a fast learner and a great observer and any gaps in her knowledge of Korean customs will be filled as soon as she’s immersed in the culture. He knew that. He’s known her for years now and had always complimented her on her sharp intellect. So why was he playing stupid now?

“Are you?” she asks. She decides to pour more soju for him instead and holds the bottle the correct way while he raises his glass. “You’ve never been nervous about any of my presentations.”

“This is a big one,” he says, softly, and he avoids meeting her eyes. It’s irritating. But most of all, it’s telling. She pours the shot and he turns again, and she takes the opportunity to touch his shoulder. He almost chokes on his soju.

“Princess.”

“Agent Ross.”

“What are you doing?”

“I could very well ask you the same,” she responds, and she doesn’t try to keep the irritation out her voice. “You’ve been doing this for months now- “

“I haven’t been doing anything,” he counters, and she sees a brief flash of anger in his eyes. She feels her pulse race at the thought. “I have been the same as I always am.”

“Right. Okay.” She scoffs and reaches for her shot glass to pour herself another drink. Rules be damned. She needed something swirling around in her system if he was going to sit there and actually lie to her about his behavior. But a heavy hand stops her before she can and wrenches the bottle from her. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not doing this right,” he grumbles. “I’ve got to pour for you, those are the rules.”

Shuri frowns and snatches the bottle right back. “We’re not at dinner right now. It’s fine. How do you imagine people drink this stuff alone?”

“They don’t,” he says, and the bottle is back in his possession once again, sloshing a bit over his hand. He glares at her for a very long moment until she relents and holds up her shot glass, both hands, but his face softens and he taps her fingers.

“You can use one hand for friends.”

“So we’re friends now?” She wants to laugh because he’s been acting more like an exasperated babysitter than a friend. But instead she scowls and keeps both hands on her shot glass and waits.

For a long moment, neither of them say anything. Everett refuses to budge and so does she. They’re both incredibly stubborn sometimes and have butt heads more than a few times, but for whatever reason, this pricks her more than normal. Maybe it’s because she wants him so badly and she knows he wants her and he’s playing this silly game of pretending he’s immune to the attraction between them. She’d blame it on the divorce, but that excuse was running thin. And he’s given her enough to go on so that she knows that wasn’t an issue any longer. She’s tired of the nonsense.

Everett is the first to move. He reaches out, slowly, and peels one of her hands from around the shot glass until she’s only holding it with one. Shuri doesn’t breathe. His hands are warm and a little rough and his jaw clenches as he picks up the bottle of soju to pour.

The liquor goes in smoothly for a man whose hands shake.

Shuri takes in a deep breath and lifts the shot glass to her mouth, not bothering to turn around. She throws it back in one smooth go and keeps her eyes on him the entire time and his hand clenches around hers that he still holds tightly. When she’s done, she sets the shot glass on the tray and opens her mouth to speak, but can’t think of what she wants to say.

_Do you want me? Take me! I’m yours._

“Go put some clothes on,” he grits out, and he slides off the bed heavily, then stalks back to his suite with the half empty bottle still in hand.

Shuri slings the tray from the bed angrily.

.

.

.

.

She does not, in fact, put any clothes on because this is her room and her bed and she can sleep in whatever she wants. Instead, she lies under her covers sans robe now and stares at the ceiling. It’s two in the morning Seoul time and she still can’t sleep, even with a little bit of alcohol in her system and the exhaustion of travel in her bones.

She wonders what Everett is doing in his room. She's got too much pride to reach over and grab her kimoyos off the dresser and send him a message, so she remains under her covers and she tries to think of anything else but him, and his angry, dark eyes, and the hardness of his jaw as he’d poured her that last shot.

She tries, too, to think of anything in the world but how absolutely turned on his anger got her. Nakia had told her once that Everett deliberately used his mostly harmless look to infiltrate and dig into some of the most clandestine and secret societies and that had made him almost inhumanly good at his job. He looked so unassuming, almost mousy when he dressed down, and more like a harried school teacher than a CIA agent. But there was a dangerous, deadly side of him that Shuri had only seen the surface of before. He could be vicious, unyielding, and violent if needed, and had needed to be before, but she’d seen almost nothing except the soft parts of him. There were smiles, there was laughter, there were sharp, witty jokes and ramblings about things that underscored the man’s next level intellect. He could be arrogant at times, had been arrogant before she’d met him, but could also accept a lesson with humility and quiet kindness.

But he was still a killer. And Nakia had told her, in that same conversation, to never underestimate Everett Ross.

_He is an amazing ally and a great friend, Shuri, but don’t ever get him on your bad side._

Shuri believed that as much as she believed anything. She had admitted to herself months ago that she was itching to see just how dangerous Everett could be because something about the idea of his usually prim and proper self dissolving into someone deadly had been the source of quite a few of her fantasies lately. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that really attracted her; he wasn’t that handsome and he wasn’t very tall. But he had a presence and it drew him to her like a moth to a flame.

Turning on her side, she sighs and closes her eyes stubbornly, willing sleep to come, but it refused to.

When she looks at the clock again, it's a quarter to three and her eyes still aren’t heavy enough to nod off. This was all his fault, honestly. She growls as she slings her sheets from her body and gets out of bed angrily, exhaustion and frustration marching her to the door that separated their suites.

She at least knocks. She needed a word, something to clear the air, but she wouldn’t be that rude. He was probably already out like a light, and if she had to wake him, prudence told her it was best to give him as much notice as possible. 

She pauses a few seconds between knocks, and waits impatiently, shifting from foot to foot until the thud of his footsteps and the crack of the door draws her attention.

“It’s three am,” he says, and she realizes he hadn’t been asleep either. He’s probably tried, if the nest on his head gave any clues, but his efforts had been as futile as her own. That comforts her in some small way.

“I know what time it is,” she says, snarky as ever, but there was a tremble in her voice she didn’t like. And yet, it seemed to move him a little because he sighs, moves out the way, and lets her in.

He remains by the door when she clears the threshold, watching, waiting for her to speak. She turns and catches his eye in the darkness, against the glow of the light of his bathroom, and she fumbles her hands as she thinks of how to broach the subject. But she can’t, not without sounding needy and desperate. Maybe she was.

“Do you make it a habit of disobeying orders?” he suddenly asks, and Shuri frowns, confusion all over her face. 

“You don’t give me orders,” she says haughtily, because while her brother had asked that she listen to Everett and allow him to keep her safe, she did what she wanted when she wanted. She was royalty, and had no masters, least of all some white man with a chip on his shoulder. Shuri crosses her arms under her breasts and holds her head up as he walks towards her. He circles her like a shark, eyes sharp and mouth tight, and she feels something flutter in her belly, hot and aching.

“While you’re with me, I do.” He says it with the confidence of a man who didn’t take back talk or dissension. “I told you to put more clothes on, and you apparently didn’t listen.”

Shuri scoffs, but something about the way he’s looking at her thrills her. “I’m in my nightclothes, you idiot. I can wear whatever I want to sleep.”

“Not around me.”

“I’m not around you while I’m sleeping,” she counters. “I’m in bed, alone, under my sheets where you want me to be.”

That gives him pause, long enough that she thinks she’s won something in this weird little dance they’re doing. But he’s so close now and though he’s head and head for her in the height department, he looms over her like someone far taller. He takes in a deep breath and regards her stoically until she has to drop her gaze to the ground.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?” she dares to ask and he lifts her chin roughly, makes her look him in the eye once more, and she thinks he smiles but it’s not like anything she’s seen before.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess.”

Shuri swallows. “I’m not playing a game,” she insists. “I’m done with games. I’m tired.”

“Do you know what you want?” Before she can open her mouth to say yes, she did, he cuts her off. “Do you really know what you want? Because I can guarantee that you have no real idea.”

Her heart beats like a drum as his thumb strokes the curve of her jaw and his hand, bigger than she realized, comes down to caress her throat, ever so lightly, but with just a hint of promise if she goes through with this.

“I don’t,” she admits. “Not really. But I want to know. I want to find out.” She stands up on her tip toes so that he doesn’t seem so tall. She’s got to find some sort of upper hand because she’s scared of letting him take complete control. She’s scared...but she wants him to, as well. “I want to know what makes you tick.”

He laughs then, slow, deep, almost unrecognizable, and it stirs her blood so hotly that she loses her breath.

“Better be sure about that.”

“Why?” She smiles to match his and his eyes dilate. “Are you as dangerous as they say?”

“Maybe. The thing is, Shuri...I’m not a one and done type of guy.”

“Oh?” The hand on her throat tenses just a bit and squeezes a little harder and her gasp is feather soft but enough for him to pull her to him abruptly and hold her tight against his body. He’s solid as a rock and hard, too, and she nearly moans at the implications.

“If you let me have you, and apparently, that’s what you think you want, I won’t let go.” He dips his head down to her ear and warm breath brushes against the lobes there. “I’m a dog with a bone, sweetheart. If you’re mine, you’re mine. All mine. No one else's.”

And there it was, the danger she’d been wanting to see come out. It was pouring off of him in dizzying waves until she swore she would swoon. She keeps her legs stock still so they don’t buckle and wrenches her neck around to glare at him as boldly as she was able. Her body felt like a livewire and her hands ached to pull his mouth to hers and bite his lips bloody, but she keeps her cool and restrains herself.

“Not sure if that’ll work, Mr. Ross,” she says smoothly. “I’ve never been the type to put all my eggs in one basket.” 

Everett’s throat bobs as he swallows and for one split second, she thinks he’ll kiss her but instead, he lets her go, pushing her forward until she’s an arms length away. It’s cold over where she stands now and her body aches for him more than it ever has. He wipes his mouth and flops down onto his bed, sighing as he does so.

“What was that about?” she asks him, indescribably turned on and angry. He shrugs as if she should already know.

“I gave you my terms. I told you what I was and how I operate. You can take it or leave it.”

He glances away with a shake of his head and grumbles something under his breath about bratty princesses, and Shuri thinks she’ll explode, her temper is so fired up.

“No, no fuck you, you don’t do something like that and then walk away!”

“I do what I want on my own time,” he says, a warning in his tone. “You just don’t seem to able to handle that not everyone is willing to kiss your pretty ass all the goddamn time!”

That makes her jaw drop and she’s at a loss for anything to say. He takes the opportunity to really study her, as much as he can in his darkened room, and he scoffs. 

“Little girls that play with fire get _burned_ , Shuri,” he says in a dark tone. “Little girls who can’t handle playing big girl games get _hurt_.” And then his voice softens enough that she knows that he’d pushed her away out of some misguided attempt to protect her and her heart twists.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I really don’t.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she says, and she dares to step closer. She expects him to pull back but he remains where he is and lets her come to him, until she’s so close, all he’d have to do is reach out and touch her. _Touch me_ , her body screams. _Please, just touch me._

“You sound so sure. I wish I were.”

“Have you ever hurt anyone before?” Shuri isn’t sure if she really wants the answer to that or not, but she has to know. “Have you ever…”

“I’ve never hurt anyone in any way they didn’t want me to, unless they deserved it,” he says, and fuck it if she isn’t even more determined now to have him. Or, she thinks almost amused, to let him have her. He would dominate her in every which way if she could convince him to take her. She wanted him to.

“Good. Then what’s the problem? I’m not a child, Everett. I’m not a little girl.”

“No.” His eyes drop to the smoothness of her bare skin and the dip of her tiny waist, to the hem of those little silk shorts that hide her sex. “God knows you’re no little girl. But you’re still...You haven’t been…”

“I’m not a virgin,” she scoffs. “Haven’t been since 17. If that’s what you’re worried about-”

“What’s your favorite position?” he asks her. He leans back on his hands and looks her deep in her eyes. “Tell me what you like and I’ll tell you if you can handle me.”

She blinks like an idiot and stares at him for a while until she grasps that he’s serious about this. Her cheeks heat up at the thought of confessing all of this to him, intimate details about her sex life, and she’s painfully aware that she’ll expose how inexperienced she still is.

“I um... I like it on top.”

He says nothing to her confession, so she clears her throat and continues. “From behind. You know, like, on my knees and uh…”

“I know what that means.”

“I’ve done a 69 before. One time, I had sex against a wall.”

“That’s cute. So basically, you’re about that missionary life like most of the world.”

“Fuck you,” she says sourly. “It’s not my fault I haven’t done a lot of anything else.”

“It’s your fault for fucking boring men, so yeah...it kinda is.”

She wants to toss one of his crumpled pillows at his messy head but she restrains herself. He’ll never take her seriously if she acts like an angry child. 

“My options are a bit limited,” she says, crossing her arms and scowling. “I can’t just go out and fuck anybody I want, believe it or not.” 

“And you shouldn’t want to,” he concurs, scooting forward off the bed until he’s standing again. He sighs softly as he steps up to her and he tilts his head as he regards her. “You’re a princess. You should be selective.”

“Well, I’m trying to be, but you’re being stubborn.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to warn you, Shuri. Jesus. I told you I’m not what you think.”

She almost laughs because he’s so damned serious and honestly, this is just sex, so why is he taking it so seriously? But from the look on his face, there was good reason he was warning her. And it was a titillating feeling; she wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to know what made him tick. She wanted to see the dirty, dangerous, terrifying parts of him. She wanted to experience it. 

“So you’ve said. You say you don’t hit it and quit it and really, that’s nice and I don’t mind that.” She puts her hands on her hips and dares to shift closer to him until they’re nose to nose. “I mean, if the sex is actually decent I might want seconds.”

And then Ev is the one laughing, and he tugs her close once more, pinning her arms behind her back in one quick, fluid motion. It startles her, arouses her, and has her breathless and wanting. This is what she’d wanted. Dominance.

“You make it sound like it’s as easy as ordering take out. It’s far more than that.”

“What is it?”

He grins, and she realizes his teeth are far sharper than she’d ever thought. “It’s me devouring you, little by little, piece by piece. It’s you craving every bite because of how good it is. It’s being utterly and completely possessed by me and you enjoying it.”

“That’s what I want,” she almost moans. She wants to climb up and wrap her thighs around him and give herself to him. “That’s what I meant!”

“But you can’t follow rules or take orders. You don’t really understand what actually going through with this means. If you did, you’d be hauling ass back into your room right now and you’d lock the goddamn door.”

Shuri sucks in heated air and whines because he’s so close to her and she wants him so much and she hates that she can’t just get him in her bed. 

“You act like you’re some big bad wolf,” she says, and she whimpers as the grip on her arms tighten. “Like you’re the monster in a fairy tale and I’m the helpless princess.”

“I’m not your knight in shining armor, either, sweetheart.” He lets her go and the feeling in her arms rushes back so fast it almost overwhelms her. “I’m telling you this one more time, and then I’m done; if you do this, if you go along with this, if you say, ‘Everett, I want you, I want to be yours’, you have to mean that. This isn’t a one night stand. I don’t do one night stands or two night stands, or whatever the hell kids are doing these days.”

“Okay.”

“If I fuck you, you’re mine. Those are the conditions. I fuck you and I touch you and no one else in this world will.”

“Everett, I-”

“Nope,” he pushes, and his voice drops, his tone giving her no room to believe he isn’t dead serious. “Listen to me. Your first fucking lesson. You have to do what I say, when I say, and how. If I don’t like it, I punish you. And you’re going to fucking like it.”

Shuri blinks. She can feel her body respond to his words and the implications behind them. She thinks she’s probably soaked through her silk shorts and her body itches so badly to be touched or taken. And she knows, though she’s admittedly a little terrified of what he’s really talking about, that she wants to explore that. Even if she can’t follow through completely, she wants to try. She draws in a breath, taking in the scent of him, and meets his eyes boldly.

“Yes sir,” she says softly, licking her lips, and his pulse jumps in his throat.

Everett doesn’t move for a very long minute, but when he does, he draws her to him once more. This time, he’s gentle, his hands warm and light on her hip, and he slides it up to her waist, where he scrapes his thumbnail across her bare skin.

“Can I kiss you, Shuri?”

“God, yes,” she whispers, and he does and her brain shorts when his mouth touches hers.

.

.

.

.

He kisses as if he’s done this all his life. He’s insistent but not demanding, passionate, but not sloppy. His mouth tastes like mint from his toothpaste and his lips are soft, the scruff of a barely there beard tickling her chin. When he opens his mouth, and subsequently, hers, he slips his tongue inside and explores it with a subdued sort of urgency. It’s as if he were thirsty for her kiss, but too proud to beg for the wine of it.

Shuri’s drunk when he pulls back and she leans her head onto his collarbone, breathless, her eyes slipping shut as he hums in satisfaction right beside her ear.

“You taste like divinity.”

She nearly giggles in delight. “You don’t taste too bad yourself.” With a sigh, she lifts her head and opens her eyes and the hunger in his is damn near overwhelming. She reaches up and brushes messy, salt and pepper hair from his temples and he leans into her touch. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“How long?” he asks, voice thick with need. He pushes his hips into hers and she moans softly. He’s not a tall man, nor is he particularly big, but whatever is in those boxers of his was. She shivers in anticipation.

“Since I’ve known you.” That wasn’t really far from the truth, either, because she’d watched as he recovered in her lab and wondered idly what kissing a white man would be like. It had been a silly, fleeting thought and she’d dismissed it as soon as it struck her, but it’d lingered in the back of her psyche for years. And now, she thought with a slight grin, she knew.

“You were 18 when I met you,” he says, almost in a daze. “You can’t have wanted to kiss me then.” His voice is deeper, his eyes hooded, and he thrums with energy. She wonders if that’s what arousal feels like on a _man_ , and not the boys she’d messed around with and she’s suddenly significantly more nervous than before. He’d said he was a force to be reckoned with; what if she admitted she was a lot less experienced than she’d let on?

Whatever she was thinking seems to shine all over her face because he pulls back a bit to regard her.

“Shuri?”

“Hmm?” She blinks up at him and offers a smile. “What is it?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She swallows and nuzzles his neck, kissing his chin for good measure. “I mean, I’m hornier than Bast should allow and you’re standing here, a few scraps of cloth away from giving me what I want-”

He lets out a raucous chuckle at that. “That’s not what I meant, but okay.”

“What did you mean?”

“I meant, are you afraid of something?” He tilts his head and regards her carefully. “Besides the unknown. It’s fine to be afraid of that...a little bit. I don’t want you to be terrified.”

She shakes her head and bites back a confession that she’s literally slept with only two people and both times had been on top and she’d not cum from either interaction. So much for rebelling while in Oakland. That had been as fruitless as trying to date around back home. Princesses didn’t date just anyone and guys were enough terrified of her brother that nobody even approached or tried hitting on her. It was frustrating.

“I suppose I’m just wondering how we’re going to proceed,” she settles for. “I mean, you’ve tried scaring me out of fucking you.”

His face turns a pretty shade of red at the expletive and some of the tension on her body disappears, replaced with mirth. 

“You’ve really got to stop doing that. At least in public.”

“Cursing?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Does it turn you on?” she asks, and much to her surprise, he leans down to nip her earlobe, earning another moan and he laughs again.

“Like a water faucet.”

And there it was. That explained why he always wanted her to watch her language. She nearly giggles again but he was waiting on her to finish explaining her hesitation.

“It’s just...you don’t do vanilla. I’m okay with that. I mean, I love the idea of that, but um...I don’t know if I can just…”

“I’m not going to toss you into the deep end,” he says, as if she were being silly. “God, I’m kind of a jerk, yeah, but I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“Then what are you gonna do?” Her lips burn from his kiss and she was a second away from throwing him onto the mattress and dragging his pants down. Patience, and a bit of persistence, had gotten her this far, though, so she could wait. 

“We’re gonna try this out. We can start with a little vanilla. Contrary to what I said before, there’s nothing wrong with vanilla and I don’t dislike it at all. I simply tend to play in the more edgy side of the pool.”

“Oh. Okay, well...that’s fine.”

He smiles. “And then, once I figure out what you like, what sets you off, we’ll test your limits. Work from there.” He watches her silently until she’s antsy and then makes up his mind about something. She’d pay good money to know what. “Take off your clothes.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. She strips out of the camisole and shorts and stands before him then, bare as the day she was born. Ev blows air out his nostrils and lets out a low whistle.

“What?” She feels both wildly attractive and strangely scrutinized.

“Not only are you smarter than anybody on the entire planet, you’re absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

She smirks. “You already knew that.”

“I’ve never seen you naked, though,” he retorts, licking his lips. “Well, not completely. Bikinis count, I suppose.”

“Sort of.”

He crooks his finger and motions for her to come hither and she does, no question. She thinks she’s doing alright so far. Maybe this entire learning process will go as smoothly as everything else she tries to learn goes. Easy.

Her thoughts are diverted elsewhere when Everett slips his hands around her waist and then slides them up her torso towards her breasts, thumbs flicking the underside of both mounds. He hums, lowers his head, and promptly sucks one of her nipples into his mouth.

She isn’t sure how to describe the sound she makes, but he likes it, because he moans around her flesh and pushes his hips into hers again. Hot breath and wet tongue mingle and stroke the sensitive skin there in tantalizingly slow circles, until she shudders and digs her nails into the short, shaggy hair on his head. She tugs and pushes him toward the other breast and he laughs before giving her what she wants. By the time he pulls back, mouth slick with spit and eyes glittering, she’s dizzy with the need to fuck him and her body trembles.

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What?” she breathes out, eyes half closed and her legs barely holding her upright. She needs to be in his bed and either underneath or on top of him as soon as possible. All the blood in her body is pooling towards her aching, throbbing core. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re greedy. I gave you one little taste and you instantly wanted more.”

She huffs, and then squeals happily when he finally lifts her off the ground and deposits her into his bed. The sheets are mussed and wrinkled from where he’d tossed and turned, and the pillows lay this way and that. But it’s comfortable and his bed smell like the sandalwood soap he uses.

“I really would not be complaining about that. It felt amazing, you doofus.”

“I know it did.” He says it with a laugh on his breath and a quirk to his mouth that makes her clench. “I’m pretty fucking good with my mouth, I’ll have you know.”

“Are you going to use it elsewhere,” she asks, “or are you going to talk to me all night?”

Everett raises a brow but he kneels, slowly, and then grasps her ankle and pulls her quickly across the mattress until her ass perches right on the edge. He leans forward without a word and presses his mouth to her ankle, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. Her heart thumps a little harder the further up the travels, until he sucking on the tender flesh of her inner thighs and her fingers are twisting the sheets in a vice grip.

“Calm down,” he orders her, but it’s gentle and a little amused. She tries to, truly, but it’s just so hard, because his hands stroke her other leg and she can feel his breath on her cunt and god, he’s so close that if she shifted her hips a bit, he’d be face first in her heat. She knows she’s got to be soaking wet and she’s throbbing nearly painfully, and she whimpers when he skips right over where she wants him most to start on the other leg, this time moving in the opposite direction.

“Ev,” she breathes out, trying not to whine, but she can’t help it. It comes out reedy and high pitched and the grip on her leg tightens as he darts out his tongue to trail it up to the juncture of her core and thigh. She nearly sobs.

“Patience is a virtue, Princess.”

“Teasing isn’t very gentlemanly,” she huffs out and he lifts his head, his mouth pressed into a line so he doesn’t laugh. But it’s dancing in his eyes and she’s almost irritated at how funny he finds this. 

“I’m no gentleman,” he muses. He dips his head again, this time to the curls that grace her mons, and he drags his nose and mouth through them, inhaling deeply, a groan in his chest that sounds like a rumbling engine. “You smell so fucking good.”

“I probably taste even better,” she says, and this time he does laugh. But he lets it taper off when he finally drags his tongue through her swollen lower lips and right up the center of her, dipping into her entrance before flicking her aching clit.

She screams. He savors the taste of her on his tongue and raises a brow and she tosses her head back, aching for more.

“That good, huh?”

“That bad,” she pants out, reaching down to pull him closer. She grips the straps of his tank and tugs hard, though he doesn’t budge. “I want…” She swallows, shakes her head, and wiggles her bottom toward him enticingly. “I need you that bad. Please. Everett, please, I-”

And she squeaks again when he growls and dips his mouth down and really gets to work.

It’s a hazy sort of climb. She’s got both legs spread wide while his hands push her into the mattress and he devours her as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Sounds spill forth from her mouth like a fountain, little sharp gasps and moans when he sucks on her clit, shaking sighs and grunts when he works his tongue back and forth and in circles. He pulls back periodically to licks his lips and reassess, giving her body just enough respite that she begins to come down, much to her chagrin, and though she begs him not to stop, he continues his pattern of getting her into a pleasurable rhythm, pushing her to a precipice, and then letting her slide back down before catching her again.

It’s maddening. She’s blubbering out his name, cries and curses in a mishmash of English and Xhosa and even a little French, and he laughs against her heated flesh, scraping his slick bottom lip with his teeth.

“I’m gonna stop and leave you lying here if you don’t stop calling me a shithead.”

“I’m gonna...kick you...in the face if... _fuck_...Ev, I’m...fuck, c’mon please, please, I’m-”

  
She’s so close to orgasm that she wonders if she could bring herself to it by just tugging on her nipples. She decides to give it a shot and slicks her fingers with her tongue, circling the hardened little peaks vigorously. Ev catches on to what she’s doing and swats her hands away, pinning them down, his face hardened as he hovers above her.

“I think the fuck _not_.”

“I need to cum!” she almost cries, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m _know_ you do. I’ve made sure of it. But I’m going to be the one that makes you cum, and that’s all there is to it.” 

Shuri opens her mouth to say something about him not doing a damned thing about making her cum, but he transfers both her wrists to one large hand and slides the other down her quivering belly, rough fingers pushing her honey slick lips apart and grazing her clit. Her body jerks from the bed, and she digs her nails into whatever she can get ahold of at this angle-notably, her own palms-and shifts her body down desperately. One of those fingers pushes at her entrance and then slowly inside, stretching her just a bit and she watches through half shut eyes as his face changes.

“Shuri.” He sounds just as breathless as she feels. “You’re so tight.” He frowns a bit and she feels a little self conscious about the situation. Wasn’t that a good thing?

“Is that bad?” she asks, trying to raise up a little but he keeps her pressed to the bed. She groans a bit at the change of angle before she’s pushed back down, and she clenches around his finger before it slides out again.

“Goodness, no. Not really.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I’m trying to relax you. I don’t want you tense when we-”

“Uh huh, but I’m...I’ll be far more relaxed if you just let me cum.”

He stares at her blankly for a moment, then slides two fingers into his mouth and pushes them gently inside her. She holds her breath, body fluttering a bit around the digits. It feels good; even if she is tight, she likes the fullness of his fingers and she arches her back, pushing her hips down so that the angle draws him in further. He grunts with satisfaction and curls them upward, pushing a bit on something soft that makes her screech in surprise.

“Ohhh!”

“Feel good?”

She nods jerkily. “Uh...huh, yeah, I think it does.”

He snorts out a soft laugh and draws his fingers back, then pushes them back in, a motion he repeats over and over. He takes his time and for once, Shuri tries not to be impatient about how slow he’s moving. There’s something wonderful about it, and she leans back with a rush of air from her parted lips, her hips moving in slow, winding circles as his fingers stroke her steady. 

But the ache increases and his fingers feel almost too good, and the moans from her mouth get louder and louder until she pushes down hard and fast. To her delight, he increases his pace and adds a thumb to her clit, before letting her hands free to scoot down and take her in his mouth once more. The combination of fingers and wet, rough tongue nearly knocks her sideways and she clenches the sheets beneath her, eyes screwed tight as he hums against her wetness and brings her to her first orgasm. Her back arches completely from the bed and she lets out a soundless scream, something pushed from her throat, burning her chest but noiseless.

“That’s it,” Everett purrs, pushing her all the way through the waves of pleasure. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

It feels so good she can’t stop shaking, even when he pulls his fingers free and sucks them clean. She struggles to catch her breath and lies back bonelessly, eyes staring at the ceiling in a daze. And though she thinks she should be marginally satisfied with the pleasure she’s gotten, she’s still throbbing, both from the aftershocks and also from incessant need. 

She knows she won’t be completely sated until he’s deep inside her, and even then that’s debatable.

“Ev,” she calls, head turning to find him nestled next to her, his expression pleased and observant. 

“Shuri.”

“You’re still dressed.”

He chuckles. It stirs her blood all over again. 

“I thought maybe you’d wanna undress me.”

Shuri smiles softly and forces herself to roll up and over, until she’s on her knees and he sits up to join her. She isn’t sure how to start, so for a while she just touches the bare parts of him-shoulders and neck and arms. His skin is like a furnace and surprisingly soft. Little freckles dot the flesh of his shoulders and spread across his collarbone. She leans down to kiss each one and he watches her with a soft expression, something almost melancholy. She wonders what he’s thinking.

“Nothing,” he says, though she has a feeling he’s fibbing. But she drops it. If he wants to tell her, maybe he will.

“Is that okay? I know some people find kisses ticklish.”

“Mmm, no, it’s fine.” He smiles and she kisses his neck, breathing him in, all sweat and man. He smells good and his skin is salty and she likes the way he trembles when her tongue darts out to taste him. Small hands roam his still clothed chest until she finds the hem of his ribbed tank and pulls up. Slowy, she draws it over his body and he lifts his arms to assist her. 

And for a moment, she just stares.

“You act like you’ve never seen me shirtless before.”

Shuri presses her mouth into a line and rolls her eyes. “That’s not the point,” she grumbles, but she touches him again, first across his belly that is both soft and hard at the same time and to up to his chest, to pale skin and the softest, blondest curls. She’s got the sudden urge to bury her face there, so she does, rubbing her cheek across the little hairs and giggling a bit when they tickle her nose.

“You’re having way too much fun with that,” he says, thoroughly amused. He doesn’t move to stop her though; instead, he puts his hands behind his head and lets her fingers dip into every expanse of his flesh. She traces scars and moles, leans down to kiss more freckles, and drags her nails softly over his ribcage, making him groan and arch a bit from the bed. “That’s a weak spot,” he breathes out and she grins, pleased.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Can I take off your boxers, too?”

“Be my guest.”

That goes a lot quicker than taking his tank off had. He lifts his hips and she scoots the underwear down and though she tries to pretend she’s not impressed by the size of him, she is. He’s about average length, but the girth of him more than makes up for that, and she’s reaches out to stroke him, her fingers gentle and tentative on the hot, impossibly silky flesh. When her fingers circle the pink tip, he murmurs her name and shifts his hips up and she feels almost divine. The power makes her mouth water and she’s pretty sure her eyes dilate a bit because the expression on his face is both aroused and smug. But there’s a little bit of insecurity too, in the line of his mouth, though he covers it by swinging his leg side to side. 

“You’re not going to ask if I’ve ever had anything this big?”

Everett stares at her blankly. 

“Why should I?”

“You’ve been asking a whole myriad of personal questions. I thought maybe you’d to see how you stack up.”

“I’m already aware of how I stack up.” He moves to sit up a little and in a flash he’s got her draped across his naked body. When his skin touches hers, she moans in delight. He feels incredible beneath her. “You haven’t had anything this big and I’m going to have to practice every bit of patience I’ve ever had beaten into me-”

“Beaten?!” she asks, eyes widening, but she swats him when he laughs.

“I’m teasing, baby, shush.”

“ _Baby_?”

“I thought you might get tired of me calling you Princess all the time,” he offers by way of explanation, but the blush on his chest says something else. “And you _are_ a baby. At least by my standards.”

“I am 23 damned years old,” Shuri says haughtily, but her words taper to a sigh of exaltation when he starts a line of kisses down her throat. “I’m not...hmmm. Keep going.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, deep and dark across her collarbone. And his hands explore just as well as his mouth does.

.

.

.

.

Fuzzy headed and hazy eyed, she lies back in his embrace, the sweat of her skin slick against the heat of his. He’s spent the last hour just kissing her in every possible part of her imaginable; she’s sure not an inch of her has gone uncovered and she feels so wound out she thinks she’ll burst. Apparently, all the teasing and touching and tasting had gotten to him too, because he pushing her thighs open with his knee as his lips are pressed to hers, hot kisses, wet and breathless things that have her gasping into his mouth.

“Do we need protection, or…”

“I’ve got an implant,” she says, tugging on his hair. “I’m fine. So long as you’re not infested with creepy crawlies.”

“I’m not,” Ev confirms with a snort. “I’ve got my damn results on my phone if you just need to see.”

Shuri giggles and shakes her head. “Nope. I’m fine. I trust you.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” he quips, and that dark undercurrent of danger seeps through. “Next time, I’ll get us a box of condoms, though, just to be sure.”

She nods in agreement and pulls his head down to kiss him quickly, lips lingering on his as he nuzzles her nose. 

“I don’t suppose I need to ask,” he says, sliding his hand to her core, soaking wet and ready. “But I’m gonna anyway.”

“Uh huh.”

“Uh huh, what?”

Shuri swallows and slides her thumbs across the pulse in his throat. “Uh huh, I’m ready. Fuck me, Ev. Please.” She bites down on his shoulder just enough to hurt and he hisses, his hands grasping her hips roughly. She spreads her legs wider and he settles between them, hovering just over her body while his tongue swipes salt from the hollow of her throat.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispers, heated and a little desperate. It’s an aphrodisiac to see his control crack, if only a bit. She lifts her hips and meets his eyes and when his cock brushes against her core, she moans out his name reverently.

“I want it. I want you.”

Shaking hands cling to his back and she wraps her legs around him in invitation. With a bit of finesse and a soft push, he’s inside her and the air rushes from her lungs at the penetration.

It’s a little painful, if only because he is big, but it’s more pressure than pain and after a moment of adjusting, where he kisses her cheeks and murmurs to her gently, she’s aching for him to move.

“I’m fine,” she pants out, pushing her body up to give him a hint. She groans at the slightest movement, and then closes her eyes when he actually pulls back. “Oh, fuck. _Fuck_.”

He groans too, his breath hot on her shoulder and his body quivering as he starts a slow rhythm, his thrusts deep and thorough. For a few minutes, Shuri holds on and takes, opening up to him a like a flower. Her fingers explore his back, roaming his spine and curling at the small of it, and she lifts her knees to take him deeper, crying out his name when he pushes against that spongy softness inside her. _G spot_ , she thinks unbidden. Leave it to Ev to actually find her g spot when she’d been looking for it since she’d first heard about it.

“C’mon,” he says with a grunt, his hands wrapping her up and lifting her a little from the bed. She arches instinctively. “Move with me, baby.”

Shuri pushes her heels into the mattress and as he pushes deep inside her, she pushes upward, startling her with how amazing it feels as his pelvis brushes against her clit.

“Oh Bast,” she pants out, arms around his shoulders and eyes wide. “Do that again!”

Ev laughs softly and steadies them with one hand in the bed, his knees bent as he starts to thrust harder and a little deeper. She’s wetter than she’s ever been before and she takes him easily, though the thickness of his cock still stretches her with an almost pleasurable sort of pain. She chases the feeling, matching his speed with a little concentration and then they move together in tandem, his push against her pull and vice versa. Little keening, gasping pants escape her throat and rush out across his neck, where her face is buried and the scent of him, heated and masculine, surrounds her.

“Can I see you?” he asks her, blinking back sweat from his eyes and in her confusion, she frowns.

“Huh?”

Ev swallows and opens his mouth to speak again, but a moan overrides his words and he bows his head for a moment. His hips push a little harder yet and she digs her nails into his shoulder blades in reaction.

“ _Fuck_ , you feel amazing. So fucking good.” He grunts again and lowers her to the mattress, stretching her arms above her head as he angles his body a little to the left. “Is that okay? Do you like that?”

“Uh huh,” she drawls, letting her ankles fall to the side, letting him fuck her, letthing him have whatever he wants. Her head falls to the side and she kisses his forearm, her tongue laving the salty skin there. “Ev, it feels so good, so, so…” Her eyes flutter open and closed and she can feel something winding and twisting inside her tightly, the ache between her thighs throbbing intensely. She needs to cum and she will if only she could have something more, something else.

“I wanna get on top,” she pants out, meeting his eyes. He looks almost surprised but he grins, flips them over quickly, and settles her atop him without ever breaking their connection. The change in position is a little startling and she swoons a bit, swaying until big hands grip her waist and hold her steady. It takes her a moment to find her bearings. The need to fuck him outweighs whatever disorientation she feels and she presses her hands to his chest, fingers sliding through his chest hair, her hips lifting slowly as she tests her ability to ride.

Everett is almost undone. Maybe that’s what he’d meant by wanting to see her. She stretches her back and pushes her shoulders back so he has a good view of (and easy access to) her breasts that sway as she moves, first slowly, then faster and harder and with purpose as she finds her seating. There’s a burn in her thighs and the rhythm is a little jerky at first, but Ev encourages her through it, leaning up to take a nipple in his mouth, his eyes darting up to watch her face as she chases an orgasm. She shifts her hips down and grinds her clit against him as his cock stretches and pushes and fills her and she can’t make sense of anything she says. There’s his deep grunts and her breathless pants and the creak of the bed beneath them.

“Ev!” she cries out, as the pleasure begins to spill out like molten lava. “Ev, I’m gonna-”

“I know it, baby,” he rasps, fingers gripping her ass and he lifts his thighs to help her ride. “Cum for me.” 

Shuri whines and her hands slip from his chest to his throat almost on accident. She blinks just as she begins to fall and squeezes, just a little, and his hard, near painful thrusts up knock her over the edge and into absolute ecstasy, and though she tries not to, she screams.

Her eyes slip close and splotches of light pop behind her lids as she rides the wave. Ev’s hands are all over her skin, sliding up her thighs and hips, fingers pressing into her ribs so that she’s almost sure it’ll bruise. She doesn’t care if it does, so long as she can feel like that again. The need to breathe burns in her lungs and she inhales sharply, her body slowing as the tremors subside.

“Shuri?”

She blinks her eyes open and Everett watches her with the sort of satisfaction that could only come from someone who’d made her cum like that. 

“Present,” she says with a rush of breath, and then she laughs a little. “And accounted for.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She hums and leans back a bit and his hands slide back down to her waist as she tilts her body backward. He’s still inside her, and still hard, and she’s so sensitive that she wonders if she could cum again with a little bit of work. “I’m great, actually.”

“Hmmm, alright.” He shifts until she’s lying on her back again and he hovers over her, his cock slipping free. She whimpers in protest. He feels way too good inside her for her to want him to move. But he slides in behind her and cradles her close, kissing the line of her shoulders and her neck, his hands stroking her breasts and his thumbs circling her nipples. “Just checking. Are you good to go again?”

“Do you need me to?” she teases and he pushes his hips into her bottom, the slick hardness of his cock making her growl in anticipation. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Mouthy even after all of that,” he says with a grumble. He slips his hands between her thighs and strokes her slowly as he nibbles on her earlobe. “I swear, you’re the walking definition of a brat.”

“Oh, but you love it, Ev,” she purrs, pulling his head down to kiss her again. His kisses are slow and thick and he drags the heat of them from her mouth to her chin. “You can’t tell me you don’t.”

“I never said I didn’t,” he says cheekily. “That’s what’ll make breaking you in so much fun.”

A shiver passes through her body at the implications of what he’s got in store for her at a later date. She clenches her fist in his hair and parts her legs, silently urging him to take her again. With a little bit of teasing, and some maneuvering, he’s flush against her and deep inside her again, and the both of them groan at the sensation.

“That feels so amazing,” he groans, shifting his hips and stroking her slowly. “ _You_ feel amazing. _Shit_...”

“Mmmhm,” she agrees dizzily, and she pushes back against him as he speeds the motion of his body. Calloused fingers come to her clit to circle and tease as he fucks her, a lazy sort of rhythm until she’s once again throbbing with the need to cum. She drapes her leg across his thigh and digs her fingers into his flesh, pushing back harder and faster, begging him with stuttered sighs to fuck her deeper.

“I want more, Ev,” she gasps out. “Please, fuck me, c’mon, fuck me!”

“I _am_ , woman, Christ,” he insists, his hand coming to her throat and his fingers fluttering on the delicate skin there. She swallows, and the tips of his fingers press ever so slightly, just enough to suggest. “You know, I usually do the dominating in bed. But I can’t lie and say I don’t like a pair of pretty hands around my throat.” The fingers tighten, only by a bit, but it’s enough to make her pulse skyrocket and she fucks backward on his cock, harder, stroking her own clit as she does. “I think you do, too, don’t ya baby?”

“Uh huh!” she concurs, giving him anything if he’ll make her cum around his cock again. It’s right around the bend. “Ev...I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna...oh!”

“Ah, ah, ah, not yet,” he says, pulling away and withdrawing and she nearly cries at the loss. A few more thrusts and she’d have cum, but he draws her up and into his arms, facing away from him, so that she sits back on his lap and he helps her sink down atop him.

The angle pushes him right against that wonderful spot and if she'd had known this position could feel so heavenly, she'd have tried it a lot sooner. She starts to ride, much in the same manner as before but with a little more finesse and she touches herself as she rotates her hips.

Everett smacks her ass, hard, and she cries out in shock.

“What was _that_ for?!”

“The fun of it,” he says and she knows he’s grinning. She can tell. “Want me to stop?”

A stinging sensation spreads across her cheek but it’s almost delightful. 

“You better not,” she huffs, clenching around him tightly. 

He smacks her ass again, then again and whatever pain she’d felt melds into pleasure until she’s moaning for more. He delivers, pushing up to meet her body with his own, fucking her as she fucks him, and carefully manicured nails scrape across the skin of her back and ass just hard enough to set her off. It’s all too much. 

“Oh, god Ev, I’m gonna cum again!” Her eyes screw shut and she clenches her hands into his shins and she rides him fast and furiously. Her skin feels as though she’s on fire but the burn is delicious, and she tosses her head back as the first waves start to take her.

“Yes, yes, yes, _yes_ cum again, baby, come on, just like that,” Everett growls, one hand still holding her hip, the other coming down to smack her still burning skin again. She tips over into pleasure and cries out to him, riding him erratically until she’s too breathless to move. But her body begs for more and she clenches around him still, little rippling waves that make him moan.

“More?” He sounds almost incredulous, even a little surprised, and Shuri flops forward onto her palms, head bowed, and gives what she hopes is an affirmative. She’s too drunk on how good this all is to form coherent conversation. 

“Greedy girl,” he whispers into her ear, spreading her pliant body onto the rumpled sheets. She lies on her belly and he gets into position behind her, never once withdrawing, giving her slow, teasing strokes. Shuri grasps a handful of cotton and buries her face into it when he pulls back and plunges in hard. That earns him a sharp cry and he pauses for a moment.

“Did I hurt you?”

Shuri turns her head and blinks back tears. He had, a little, as he’d been deeper in this position than she expected but she didn’t want to admit it. Lying to him wouldn’t be in her best interest, though, so she nods and he looks so contrite that she feels bad.

“It’s okay,” she starts but he shakes his head and leans down to kiss her in apology. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says and she bites her lip and arches her back a little and that helps her issue significantly. “At least not tonight. And not if you don’t want it.”

Shuri almost laughs. She hums and nuzzles his neck and he reciprocates eagerly, his sweet little touches and kisses a stark contrast to the dangerous, hungry man from earlier. But that’s what Everett Ross was, she’d found–a tangled mass of contrasts and contradictions. He was sharp and polished, but dirty and gritty; unflappable and stoic yet expressive and emotive; by the book and very type A, yet willing to bend, break and obliterate rules to get what he needed.

It was why she’d wanted him in the first place.

He doesn’t move, not for a long moment, until she wiggles her hips and insists he does.

“Tell me if it’s too rough.”

“I’m not going to break, Everett,” she breathes out as he starts a gentle rhythm. “I just would rather my cervix not get stabbed.”

“Duly noted.” A kiss to the shell of her ear, the lobe, then to her neck and shoulders and she sighs at the soft pressure of his warm mouth. “Some women do like that, so it’s nice to know you are not one of them.”

“Such a considerate lover,” she purrs and he laughs along her shoulder blades. “How’d I get so lucky? _Oh_...yes, Ev, right there...”

“You started making better choices in lovers,” he quips, but his voice is strained from the effort to keep things slow and she grins with a light clench of her muscles. The sound he makes is half muffled groan and half gasp and it makes her want to do it again...and again...and once more until he’s moving faster and harder and the stretch of him inside her spurs her to push back and meet him.

“Up a little,” he pants, curving an arm around her middle and tilting her hips higher. She gives a sharp cry of pleasure at the change of angle and when his fingers find her clit, she knows she’ll tumble into yet another orgasm once again, so long as he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t, not until she’s on her knees and pinned to his chest, her arms held to her sides and her head lolling about on his shoulder as she starts to cum. 

“Don’t stop,” she begs him, chest heaving and sweat dripping down her brow. “Please, Ev, don’t you dare stop, don’t...I’m so close, I just-“

She unravels around him without abandon and he soaks in every inch of it. He’s got his fingers dug tightly into her hip and his teeth on her neck, just a threat, and she shudders as his cock strokes her spot over and over and drags every bit of pleasure from her body. He slows to a slow roll of his hips and explores her belly and breasts with his hands, until one slides up to her throat again and covers it easily.

“You are _so_ perfect, baby,” he tells her and she moans happily at the praise. “So good, so sweet. Think you can cum for me again?”

Shuri shakes her head, a stammered protest coming from her mouth.

“I can’t,” she groans, because everything is so sensitive and it’s so hot and it’s too much. "I can’t cum again, I can’t.”

Ev withdraws and though she's taken more than she thinks she’d ever been able to take, she feels empty without him. She eases down into the bed and tries to catch her breath but hot hands wrap her up and she slides into Everett’s arm and his lap, facing him, her trembling legs on either side of his waist.

“Think of this as a little test,” he says, studying her hungrily. “I think you can take more-“

“Oh _Bast_ …”

“I know you can. One more, baby. C’mon.” He kisses her forehead and she closes her eyes and tilts her head back so he can kiss her mouth, the desperation in it charging through her. “Make me cum.”

_One more_ , she thinks, and she wraps her hands about his neck and lifts her hips so he can slide inside her one more time. 

Shuri curls her toes as he sinks in as deep as he can and meets his gaze, his eyes so dark with need that they were black. He doesn’t move, not even to urge her on; he waits with sharp, hard breaths and shaking hands until she threads her fingers through his hair and lifts herself up, then down and in circles and over and over again.

And Shuri never takes her eyes off him. She watched every little expression that filters across his face, from the steely gaze to the parted mouth. He flushes red and a line of swear drips down his temple, curving across his jaw and down to his chin. Brows furrow, lashes flutter as his eyes grow heavy and his hands dig harder into her hips. She pushes against him with power she didn’t know she had and whispers for him to move, too, until he’s biting her lips, her neck, and holding her close, his thighs bracketing him as he thrusts up inside her.

And though she hates to admit it, he’s right.

She’s cumming again, a deep and almost painful thing that starts in her core and spreads out, thrumming from the inside even as something amazing sparks in her clitoris. Shuri gasps sharply and scratches her nails across his back as it builds and builds, until she’s shaking and screaming out something like his name. He holds her tighter and rambles, nonsensical phrases and hard curses and platitudes of “baby” and “princess” and “Shuri”. And then he groans so deeply she can feel it in her chest and he spills inside her, hot and fast and deep.

She rides the last of his pleasure out, until he collapses back into the bed and rolls her over, his head pillowed heavily on her breast.

.

.

.

.

“So,” she says a little later, fingers trailing in the sweat of her breastbone. Every inch of her feels as though it’s been wrung out over and over. She loves it. She’s starving and sleepy and wonders if Ev will call them up some burgers or something. “That’s vanilla Ross.”

Everett snorts and his breath brushes across her neck. He still holds her tight, the part of his body draped over her heavy on her bones but in a good way.

“Mmhm yeah. I guess so.”

“Got a lot of stamina for an old man.”

“I work out,” he muses. “Take my vitamins.”

“Oh. So that’s the secret?”

“Partly.” He lifts his head and rests his chin on her shoulder. “That, and my body can’t help but go into overdrive over you.”

She bites her lip and tries not to giggle in delight but it comes through her teeth anyway. 

“Flattery, Agent Ross. How amateurish of you.”

“Flattery has gotten me into a lot of places and out of some too.” He tilts his head. “Pretty sure it got me in you.”

Shuri groans and pushes him away as he laughs until tears leak down his cheeks. But her chest feels warm and light and she kisses him softly. She yawns and stretches out across the bed, and Everett snuggles closer, until his breathing evens and she’s pretty certain he’s asleep. It’s a shame, though, because while she’s about ready to fall asleep herself, she’s also pretty hungry. As if on cue, her stomach grumbles and she groans a little at the noise of it.

“You’d think I never feed you,” Everett mutters from the pillows. His hand slides from around her waist to her belly, and he taps the flesh there with his forefinger. “We had steak for dinner. That wasn’t enough?”

“You worked it out of me,” she teases, gracing him with a quick kiss to his temple. She pushes at his shoulder and he rolls over begrudgingly, popping his neck and rolling his shoulders and she curls up in the blankets to watch the motion of his muscles under his skin. Jagged red lines from her nails grace his back and she feels supremely proud of her handiwork. “Can we get club sandwiches?”

“What do you want more?” he asks, but he’s already reaching for the hotel phone. “Food or sleep? I can tell you right now which I’d like more of.”

“Awww, did I wear you out Everett?”

He snorts but doesn’t say yay or nay. Instead, he dials down to the lobby and cradles the phone between his neck and ear. Shuri crawls over to wrap her arms around his middle, her chin resting on his shoulder, her breath in his ear. He turns his head just a bit to shoot her a glance, but someone’s picking up and he goes into cordial, professional mode.

“Uh, hello,” he says, just as her fingers slide up his chest to the soft, downy curls there. “I need to place an order for room service.”

“I want fries,” she whispers, and she kisses the shell of his ear.

“Of course you do,” he quips, a hint of a smile on his mouth. “Ah, okay, sure, I can wait. Thank you.”

She can feel her body heating up again, already, and though she thinks she should have had enough for one night, she hasn’t. She’s hungry in more ways than one. Shuri grasps his free hand and curls her fingers around it, moving it over to slide across her bare thighs. The sheets fall away and she’s pressed against him nude now, and his muscles contract a bit under her touch, then ripple beneath her fingertips. 

“What kind of bread do you want?”

“My usual,” she says. “Ciabatta. Do they have ciabatta in Korea?”

“Probably.” He sucks in a breath when she pushes his hand between her legs and into her warmth, where she’s already growing slick and ready for him again. “Christ, Shuri, I just fucked you five ways till–oh, yes, sorry I-”

He pauses and she bites back a laugh, but she doesn’t relent on her attack. Instead, she moves so that her body hovers just over his hand and he obliges her against his better judgement, sinking his fingers inside her so that she moans softly against his skin.

“Mmm, Ev…”

“Oh you don’t...no, no, it's fine, I can…” He switches to smooth Korean effortlessly. “Yes, I need two club sandwiches.” He licks his lips and watches her from the corner of his eye as her orders, the words flowing from his mouth as if he’d been born speaking anything except English. “Home fries with both. One on ciabatta if you have it…you don’t?” He curls his fingers inside her and starts a slow, heavy stroke, one that makes her bow her head. “No ciabatta, baby.”

“Um…” She swallows and tries to catch her breath. “Brioche?”

“Brioche?” He grins, and drags his fingers out of her just enough to add another, and she pushes down with a happy cry of pleasure, moving her hips up and down and fucking his fingers as he finishes their order. He nods his head in verification and she’s both wound up from needing to fuck him and happy they at least have her second favorite bread. “Yes, no mayo on that one. Wheat for the other, extra pickle. If you’d bring two Cass beers and…” He pauses, withdraws his fingers and sucks the honey from them, making her moan in frustration. 

“Ev!”

“A large bottle of water, too. We’ll need water. And can you wait a bit before you bring it up?”

Smoothly, and without warning, he turns and flips her over till she’s spread out on the bed, legs askew and braids flying and she laughs hard and deep, her body thrumming with want. He crawls between her legs and kisses her neck and drags the phone with him until it nearly falls from the night stand.

“I think we’re gonna need about an hour.”

Ev twists and hangs the phone up, grasps her wrists and pins them to the bed gently.

“An hour, huh?” she asks, squirming a little in his grasp, then arching her spine like a cat as he suckles a nipple into his mouth.

“I probably should have said two,” he says with a sigh. “Ah well. I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“Oh, I agree. I raise you a wager.”

“Hmmm. What are the terms?”

“You make me cum at least thrice before room service arrives…”

“Uh huh.” He grins slowly, predatorily, looking nothing at all like Agent Everett Ross and everything like Ev, _her_ Ev. “Go on.”

“And I’ll let you have my fries.”

He snorts out a laugh and kisses her soundly, his body melting into hers, skin and heat absolute bliss, the taste of her still on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr: lilithenaltum  
> come say hi; i'm not on much these days but I always love hearing from folks <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fanart EverShur - Dangerous Game](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982640) by [Paperdollgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperdollgirl/pseuds/Paperdollgirl)




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